


Common Flame

by Narcissistic_Ninny



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-07
Updated: 2013-02-07
Packaged: 2017-11-28 11:55:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/674120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Narcissistic_Ninny/pseuds/Narcissistic_Ninny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles didn’t mean for this to happen. In fact, he had tried to avoid it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Common Flame

Stiles didn’t mean for this to happen. In fact, he had tried to avoid it.

After he had figured out that he wanted Derek - after too many torturously vivid wet dreams and too many open-mouthed glances at his stupidly attractive body and goddamn face - Stiles actively avoided seeing Derek.

The universe just liked to fuck with him though. Something always came up, and it usually meant Derek hiding in his room from the authorities, Derek climbing through his window in need of Stiles’ research skills, Derek needing to get his ass out of trouble, that or showing up at his house because he needed his shirt back.

Stiles should have seen it coming, but he had been too busy trying to ignore Derek to notice the heated look in Derek’s eyes when he showed up in his room. He should have pushed Derek away. But, things didn’t turn out that way.

He can feel his heart pounding in his chest; hammering so fast he thinks he might die. Stiles reacts to Derek’s touch by blushing red, can feel his entire body getting warm, pooling in him like molten lava from the attention he’s getting. And he doesn’t really know where to place his hands, too eager to touch everything. Derek grabs his wrists and brings his arms around his neck. And really, Stiles is fine with Derek telling him what to do, only in this area anyway.

Between his legs, he’s rock hard, and when Derek grips around the base, giving a tight squeeze to his aching cock, Stiles can barely stop from coming then and there. His mouth hangs open, his breaths strangled. Derek’s other hand slowly trails down his spine; so gentle it makes Stiles squirm in Derek’s lap.

He drags blunt fingernails down Derek’s pecs. His skin is pulled so tightly across his chest, it feels like fucking marble under his nails. He does it cruelly, with more force than he would use on anyone else, knowing he can’t hurt Derek. In fact, Derek smirks; looking at him with dark eyes, pupils blown wide, and kisses him hard on the mouth.

The hand at his spine travels lower, past his tailbone, and lower still until there’s a finger inside of him. Stiles should be stopping him, what they’re doing could land Derek in jail, and Stiles cares too much about Derek to have him arrested. They shouldn’t be taking such a risk, especially when the sheriff of the freaking town is downstairs making dinner. Stiles should be worrying about how his bedroom door isn’t even locked, but he’s too wound up, too into it to care.

Stiles should be stopping him, but he lost control of all body function beyond moaning. He only worries about coming too soon because it’s such a virgin move and with his luck -and the way Derek is scissoring his fingers inside of him- he will.

After his fingers worked him loose, Derek’s hand lets go of his weeping cock and he lays Stiles down on the bed. He grips his inner thigh, parting Stiles’ legs, and he presses himself against him, and Stiles can feel how hard he is too. When he is inside of him, Stiles crooks his leg around his waist all on his own, without Derek manhandling his limbs like Stiles was a rag doll.

The way Derek fucks him on the bed though, Stiles might as well be. Derek moves like liquid silk, and really, Stiles doesn’t know how he had resisted him for so long. Embarrassing noises escape him before he can stop it, but he’s too lost in Derek’s touch to care as much as he should.

A musky scent fills the room, he can taste sweat on Derek’s skin, his muscles tense under Stiles’ fingertips. Stiles licks at his neck and throat, pressing his lips to his pulse. His hands move to curl in Derek’s hair, and when he tugs he can feel Derek’s throaty moan buzzing and tingling under his lips.

He rides out the movement of Derek’s hips, moving with him, his stomach tight as Derek thrust between his thighs, reminding him just how full and stretched he is. Between them is slick and so hot, Derek’s body over his the perfect warm pressure, is body like a furnace. And Stiles pulls him down over him, wanting him closer, deeper, gripping him like he had forgotten how to let go.

The pleased noise Derek makes and the hungry look in his eyes sends a pleasurable shiver down Stiles’ spine. Every thrust of his hips shocks a gasp out of him, making his body curl in. He digs his fingers into Derek’s arm, the only thing keeping him from breaking apart, from completely losing it. But he wants it, likes the feel of the swell of Derek’s chest against his own when he breathes in deeply. Stiles surrenders to his touch, letting Derek fuck him hard on his bed, creaking like it might break under them.

He only hopes his dad doesn’t come upstairs to check on him.

 

 

 


End file.
